


You'll Be Okay

by MistyMoon



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Carolina Appreciation Week, Gen, Mentions of Anxiety Attack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-13
Updated: 2014-10-13
Packaged: 2018-02-20 23:30:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2447087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistyMoon/pseuds/MistyMoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You wake up. You don't want to, but you do. You feel like you can't hold yourself today. You don't get up. Everything hurts and you don't know what you're feeling.<br/>You could already see that today wasn't a good day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You'll Be Okay

All you could see was darkness.  
  
You just woke up from what you assumed was the worst nightmare you could ever have. You didn't want to open your eyes; if you did, it would mean that you were awake and ready to live through the day, and all you wanted was to lay in bed all day, with your eyes closed and nothing to do, no one to tell you what to do.  
  
You had such a horrible night, the nightmare still fresh in your mind, that you didn't want to follow your routine. You didn't bother with the part of having to talk with the others or even with the rebels. You just didn't want to swallow the problems inside your mouth because you couldn't get them out.  
  
You used to talk about those things with Epsilon, but he started to get more busy each day, and it was hard to communicate with him. And you just felt bad when you troubled other people with your own problems, even if the person was close to you, even Wash. It was worse when someone simply asked you if you were alright. You couldn't bring yourself to say no, mostly because that person was usually someone who just wanted to check on your physical state. And looking like you were about to pass out or throw up everyday in the morning didn't help much. You couldn't avoid it; the nightmares kept you up at night, and sometimes Epsilon helped with that too. Or Wash came into your room, when you were almost asleep, because he needed someone to talk. You never told him you were too tired to talk; even if you felt like your body was going to give up on you at any time, you still tried to stay awake for him. He was your friend after all, and friends help friends. To be honest, you tried to help everyone with their problems, hoping you would forget yours. It was nice pretending that you were okay. Maybe that would make you feel okay. You didn't believe that, it was something you made up to keep you sane. Either that, or assuming that the nightmares would never stop, that you would never forget, and experience another anxiety attack. Those weren't as frequent as you expected them to be, but they happened in the worst of moments. You still try to repress the memory of the day you tried to excuse yourself from the room with the rebels, trying to say that you weren't feeling well, but the tears, and the sobs accompanying them, didn't let you be comprehended. Epsilon had been able to quickly explain the situation, and, in the moment they let you out, you ran as fast as you could. You made a mental note to thank Epsilon later, once you didn't feel like you were about throw up, to pass out. You spent quite a long time in the bathroom, imagining what they thought was happening to you, since the situation wasn't 100% explained. The words anxiety and attack weren't mentioned, all that was said was that you weren't feeling good and that you needed some time. They wouldn't be worried, but you didn't say anything to anyone else. Maybe Wash would be worried. Maybe he'd try to ask you what happened once you came back. Maybe someone else would do it, or even more than one person. The nausea started to invade your body again, you could feel it vividly. One of your last memories before passing out, was seeing your own reflection in the mirror, your red hair not as vivid as it was before. Didn't look good, but it fit with your current mood. You wanted to disappear as much as the color from your hair. You were glad you didn't have to look at it any longer. You were really glad.

The sound of an alarm shocked you awake from your thoughts. This time, you ended up opening your eyes. You weren't surprised to see that you woke up, at least, an hour before your alarm, nor that your eyes were wet. You didn’t bother to clean them, though. You made the decision to not get up, even if someone started knocking on your door, or Grey decided to return Epsilon to you. You weren’t feeling like your usual self; you felt like you would blow up at any moment., even with little, insignificant things. You didn’t want to interact with anyone; not Epsilon, not Wash, no one. You wanted to be alone. The type of alone that made some people feel uncomfortable; absolute silence, darkness, and the only thing going through your head being the wish that the voices would leave you alone for once. You wouldn’t have to hear the blue light bulb either; he wasn’t with you anymore, Grey took a hold of him for harmless examination, she assured you, and he was often needed on other places. It was kind of hard at first, realizing that he wasn’t there to tell you horrible jokes, share old blood gulch stories, or calm you down after a nightmare. After a week, that didn’t matter anymore. Missing him wasn’t on your to-do list. Not because you didn’t care, but because you got used to the fact that he wouldn’t be with you for a while. A long while.  
  
You looked at the clock. 6:32AM. That was time enough for someone to go knock on your door. You assumed Wash excused you, as he always does. He was one of the closest things you had to family. Him and Epsilon. They always had your back, and knowing that you could count on them gave you a heartwarming feeling. But, you forgot that feeling when they weren’t around. You didn’t want to, but you could never control yourself. It was never you, but something inside your head. A voice, telling you that they knew what they were doing, that they would help you, that they would make everything better. You used to trust them. You regret that now.  
  
You opened the drawers on the table beside your bed, looking for something to do. Sitting on your bed, with only the sound of your own breathing, wasn’t exactly the best thing to do. You were spreading things around inside the drawer, desperately trying to find something, anything. The few objects inside collided with each other, and you couldn’t find anything useful. When you were looking at the bottom of the drawer, you found a small notebook, and a pencil. The first action that came to your mind was drawing. Drawing was something you enjoyed doing since you were little. It was hard at the beginning, but you gradually got better. You honestly didn’t care much about the finished product; just the movements of the brush or pencil, the different shades of the same color appearing on the canvas, the formation of a picture within short time. All of those things, they made you smile. In your head, you were creating something beautiful, something that was worth your effort. And that made you happy.  
It was hard drawing with an unsharpened pencil. The strokes weren’t exactly what you wanted, but, gladly, the pencil came with an eraser. Both the pencil and the eraser seemed like they were never used, but after the two hours you spent drawing with them, they were absolutely worn out. The eraser was almost nonexistent, and the pencil was even less sharpened than before. Luckily, both of them were strong enough to resist until you finished drawing. It wasn’t something amazingly spectacular, just a simple doodle. You didn’t draw anything specific, just a face. You plucked the page from the notebook, before you settled it, along with the eraser and the pencil, back inside the drawer, and placed it on your bed, next to you. You didn’t feel like drawing anymore. You didn’t feel like doing anything, to be honest.  
  
You involuntarily began to take quick, shallow breaths, and you felt the need to scream. Something was happening, and it made you feel uncomfortable. Something inside of you, it felt wrong. You felt anger, sadness, you felt the need to punch someone and to cry at the same time. You could feel the tears invading your eyes. You didn’t stop them, they flowed perfectly down your face, meeting at the edge of your chin. They came in big numbers, and you shut your eyes tight and then opened them again so quickly, and so many times, it made them start to sting. You just didn’t start screaming until your throat was raw, because you didn’t want to alarm anymore. The walls weren’t not even a little soundproof, and you were sure your pillow wouldn’t be able to muffle all the sounds. You started punching the walls, your bed, the small bedside table, sometimes the door, anything that you could hurt your hand with. Your knuckles were bleeding and the pain you felt when you tried to open your hand was like nothing you’ve ever felt before. You started crying again, angrily searching for something to bandage your hand. You ended up laying on the floor, crying and sobbing uncontrollably, but watching your tone so no one would hear. You attempted to pull a blanket from your bed, using your legs, and then you covered yourself with it. You silently wished that someone would walk through your door, to help you, to hold you, to make you feel less like a piece of shit and more like a human being, because you didn’t feel human at all.  
  
You looked at the clock from afar. 9:23AM. The day was progressing slowly; the three hours that you spent drawing, and crying, felt like so much more. It felt like a full day. You wished that the day would go away with a blink, so you wouldn’t have to live it through.  
  
You started to feel your stomach craving for something to eat, and you realized you didn’t eat breakfast this morning. It would be easy to simply sneak in the kitchen and get something that would make your stomach calm down, but you didn’t. You thought of how you would get there, and what you would get, but you felt like it would be better if you didn’t. Not because you didn’t want to eat, or any other strange reason. You just didn’t mind. It would probably require that you talked to someone, and you could do that, but you just felt so tired, that you prefered to stay in your room. Your eyes were still stinging, and the room became blurry, unless you blinked your eyes a few times. At this point, you needed to make a huge effort to stay awake, and keep your thoughts organized. It was hard.  
You got up and slowly made your way to your bed. You rested your back on the wall, and you adjusted the covers on yourself. You were so tired, you couldn’t even think right. You could barely move your body; it didn’t hurt, but it felt like you were forcing them, like they would give out at any moment. Your were blinking more than usual, and some were longer than the others. You felt like trash.  
You closed your eyes. The relief you felt was indescribable. You breathed heavily, but the air inside your lungs felt calming, magical. You fell asleep within seconds, and you couldn’t express how grateful you were for that.  
  
Your mind awoke, and you searched for an answer, but it gave you none. You lazily looked at the clock. 11:05AM. Still early. You went back to sleep. There wasn’t anything to do anyway.  
  
Next time you woke up, it was around 2PM. You were covered in sweat, and you felt like you couldn’t breathe. Nightmare. Terrible one. But you were still tired as hell, so you decided to take another nap, maybe you would dream with something good this time. It was easier to relax when there weren’t any loud noises near you, or something important to do. You ended up falling asleep rather quickly, and it was the most pleasurable sensation you had felt that day.  
  
You woke up with someone lightly shaking your shoulder. You didn’t have to open your eyes to know it was Wash. You smiled. He was caressing your hair, and moving some of it from your face.  
“Awake now, sleeping beauty?” He asked, faintly giggling while the two last words were said.  
“Thanks to you, yes I am.” You slowly opened one of your eyes, and you realized the light wasn’t on. “By the way, thanks for not turning on the light. My eyes appreciate.”  
He laughed. “Didn’t want to wake you up the moment I got here. I admit, it was what I planned to do before I got here, but then I saw that you looked so peaceful. It was nice seeing you like that for once. Didn’t want to ruin that.”  
“Yeah, well, I wasn’t having a nightmare this time, which is probably why I looked like that.” You paused. You didn’t have a ‘good’ dream either. It was just an ordinary dream, where nothing bad happens, and nothing good happens. Still, better than a nightmare. “So,” You started. “Why did you just randomly decide to come to my bedroom and wake me up?”  
“Wanted to know if you were alright. You missed a day. You never miss a day. I know you don’t like talking to people about this kind of stuff, but you missed a day. I thought that maybe you’d want someone to talk to. Also,” He reached for the table beside your bed, and grabbed the muffin on it. “Smith made some of those earlier. There were two left, so I decided to get one for myself and another for you. Thought you could use one.” He smiled at you, and you smiled back. You both laughed, and, after you sat properly on your bed, you took the muffin out of his hand before he dropped it.  
“You’re too nice for me. I need to do something for you eventually.” You took a bite of the muffin, and only then you realized you were starving. You remembered that, in the morning, you were hungry, but didn’t feel like going outside and getting something. It was a stupid decision. But, the muffins had an amazing taste, and you felt like you could eat that for the rest of your life. You were glad you finally had something to eat. “When you see Smith again, tell him that he makes the best muffins I’ve ever eaten. This is amazing.” You kept eating, until all that was left were the crumbs. You didn’t eat them though.  
  
You and Wash didn’t talk more. It was an uncomfortable silence, when he decided to sit next to you. You closed your eyes and rested your head on his shoulder. He responded by placing one of his arms around your waist and pulling you closer to him. You wanted to pull him closer, hug him tight, not leaving any spaces between you. You wanted to make sure he wouldn’t leave, that you would have someone there for you.  
  
He started to lay down, and you went with him. He pulled you closer to him, and you buried your head on his chest. He smelled like chocolate, probably because of the muffins, and you imagined how nice it would be to fall asleep with that smell. You smiled. It’s been a long while since you’ve been that close to him, and only then you realized how much you missed that. Being with him, waking up next to him, with his arms around you. You would do anything to experience that everyday.  
  
He kissed the top of your head, murmuring a mellow “You’ll be okay, trust me,”, and hugged you tight. You didn’t respond. You noticed that you felt better, that you didn’t have the strange feeling to be alone, nor did you want to stop existing. You felt human again. You always knew that one day you’d be okay but, sometimes, after a bad day, you forgot. That thought is always there, but once the memories invade your head, you can’t see it anymore. Your family, Project Freelancer. You tried to forget it, and you were successful with most of them, but others stayed. The day your mother left, and never came back. The day you dyed your hair. York. Your father’s death. They stood up and were the only thing you could think of, the only thing that stopped you from feeling okay. The times where you dreamt about losing your friends again, or when you just felt like you weren’t doing good enough, they helped you to feel terrible as well. And you never wanted them to, you just wanted to get over them, to stop making them tear you down. You wanted to stop caring about them as much as you do.  
  
When that happened, it would be the day you would finally be okay. The day you would be able to finally live your life the way you want. Of course, you need to work hard to get there, but it’s a slow progress. You don’t have to do everything at once. And you certainly didn’t have to do it by yourself. That last thought made you smile again.  
  
You started to mess with Wash’s hair, curling it around your fingers. You were lucky to have him as a friend. He always cared about you, and even though you had your ups and downs, he never abandoned you. You couldn’t ask for more.  
  
You could hear him snoring, and you decided it was better if you slept too. It wasn’t night yet, but you wanted to sleep with him again, and hopefully wake up next to him. It was something you didn’t want to miss. You closed your eyes, and you couldn’t take his words out of your head. “You’ll be okay, trust me,”. You silently thanked him for saying that.  
  
Maybe, you would finally be okay.  
  
Yeah, you’ll be okay.


End file.
